A Friend in Time
by Haplo the Patryn
Summary: An ancient bond with the Higurashi's. The story of the last carrier of the demon inside.


A Friend in Time  
Krete's Travels  
by  
Haplo the Patryn  
  
Rated PG-13 (may change in future)  
  
Author's notes-Haplo here. It's my second fic.(the first is Star Odyssey and this is really the prelude story to it.) Anyway, this fic is kind of a spin-off in the sort of way that it's mostly told my my character's point of view. I have drawings of both of my present characters, but without a scanner they shall never reveal their full glory on the information super highway (Beware of old ladies in fast cars.). My Beta Reader as always is Master of Dreams, formerly Crescent Wind (applause). Depending on reviews, the fic may be 75 to 100 pages long. I make no promises.  
  
Disclaimer- I do not own Inuyasha & co. (Deep evil voice) Take my plot or characters and my good friend Yen lo Wang will reserve a spot for you in the deepest of the seven hells. Mwahahahahaha.....  
  
Now that that's out of my system, on with chappie 0.  
  
Prologue  
  
June 19, 1059 A.D. - Outskirts of the village of Kairn Sukai, Japan  
  
Two men stood in the middle of a battlefield. Their shoulders were slumped and their faces weary. The one on the left was a priest. His purple robes clung to him in tatters and he leaned heavily on his staff. He was a short small man in his mid thirties. His black hair was clumped and stuck to his forehead with dried blood. Some would wonder at the skill of such a small man, but you only had to look into his eyes, those piercing dark brown eyes, to see the power and wisdom that dwelled there. His face and body were covered in grit and more dried blood from the ceaseless fighting. Some of the blood was still flowing from a wound in his arm. But mostly the wound oozed a nasty greenish substance that dripped to the ground. The flesh around it had turned a sickly gray, and there was white splintered bone sticking out of his forearm. He would probably lose that arm....if he lived. Yet he did not flinch as he moved it to prepare to battle again, even though the pain of bone sliding on bone would have driven a normal man to his knees, so focused on the battle was he. The other man was a ronin. Beneath his eyes were dark heavy circles, testament to the fatigue of several days battling. He was clothed in pale green battle armor embossed with a silver serpent. It seemed alive as the ceramic armor plates shifted as its scales when the samurai breathed; however, it was difficult to see underneath the dried blood that had been splashed over his entire body. He carried a simple oak handled sword of standard army issue, like those given to infantry. It was notched in many places, it was just not meant to be taken into battle against youkai. He would be lucky if it made it through one more skirmish. The ronin had lost his own beautiful and masterfully crafted sword in the ensuing panic following his lord's demise. For he had become ronin not from war or a quest for personal wealth but through treachery.  
  
He had been a minor nobleman in the small kingdom of Toshau III. He had loved his lord like a father and had become a nobleman through years of faithful service to him in war and peace. Then at the celebration of the new year a coupe, lead by a malcontent courtier, left Toshau dead and the traitorous noble on the throne. The samurai now ronin had challenged him to single combat to avenge Toshau. After trading only a few blows the ronin managed to plunge his sword through the noble's black heart, but the traitor lord looked him straight in the eye and laughed darkly, "You have much to learn if you think you will defeat me that easily." He grasped the sword, pulled it slowly from his body and tossed it aside. No blood fell from the mortal wound; it was just a rapidly closing hole in grayish flesh. The lord laughed again. "You have revealed my disguise ronin, but that only advances my plans." He began to change. His eyes pooled with darkness, his skin began to fade to a dark grey, fangs protruded from his upper lip, his fingers elongated into insect like talons, each terminating into a foot long razor-sharp claw, and his hair bleached to shock white. During the transformation, the spectators, guards, residents of the palace had all fled taking everything of value they could carry including the ronin's sword. After it had finished the youkai tilted back its head and shrieked a single piercing note that reverberated throughout the courtyard before leaping over the 40 foot high wall and disappearing into the forest, leaving the shocked ronin alone in the abandoned castle. When he had regained his senses the ronin began a quest, to find and destroy the youkai that had murdered his liege and turned his home into a forgotten ruin. He had traveled for ten years, following rumors and coming upon many abandoned villages with one word written over and over again on various walls, Akuma. He always seemed one step behind, that was until he came upon the village of Kairn Sukai. Apparently the people had refused to flee. Armed only with pitchforks, shovels, and whatever else they could find, they were trying to hold off the onslaught. The youkai was playing with them, killing one villager then tossing pieces of the corpse at the other ones. The field was already soaked in blood and the smell of the dead permeated everywhere. The battle had been going on for quite some time. As the ronin approached he noticed that there were now only a few villagers left, the rest having been killed or fled. The only thing that seemed to keep them fighting was the village priest who was at the head of the battlefield fighting toe to toe with the powerful youkai. As he watched the ronin saw the priest falter in his defense, only slightly but enough for the youkai to take advantage of. It lunged forward and bit down into the priest's arm. The ronin could hear the sharp crack of bone as it gave way, but the priest still did not give up, placing an ofuda upon the youkai's head he activated it blowing the top part of its skull away. The youkai howled in extreme pain and backed off. The ronin finally made it to the battle. He turned to the priest and gave a wry smile, "Like cockroaches, some youkai just won't die." The priest nodded solemnly as they watched the youkai's skull and hair grow back. "We've been fighting for two days and look, it bears no marks of our efforts." The ronin unsheathed his humble sword and prepared to attack, "All youkai can be killed, one way or another." They battled the creature for another two days, and it still bore no signs of injury, the last of the villagers had been killed that afternoon and now only the priest and the ronin were left. They were weary; it would not be long until they would join the villagers themselves. Knowing this, the priest decided upon a desperate course of action. A last resort, passed down by his ancestors. He would trap the youkai in a human body, his body. There he could control it. It would be passed down his line through fifty generations until the human soul finally purified and assimilated the youkai. He held out his staff in front of him, closed his eyes, and began his spell. The ronin noticing the shift of stance and chanting asked what he was doing, but the priest ignored him. The youkai's instincts told it that it was in very real danger and the priest was the source of it. The fun was over; it was time to finish this. The youkai launched itself at the priest, preparing to eliminate this threat to its survival. The ronin who had been watching the youkai carefully, rushed to defend the priest. Just before he intercepted the youkai, the priest finished his spell. The youkai seemed to fade into a shadowy form of itself and flew toward the priest. The only problem was the ronin was in the way.... The shadow youkai contacted the ronin and was drawn in. For a moment it was superimposed on the ronin, a final scream of defiance on its face as it became a part of him. After the youkai was captured the ronin fell to his knees. The priest ran to him and knelt down beside him. When the ronin looked up he saw there were tears in the man's eyes. "I'm so sorry..." the priest breathed softly. " You have been given the burden I was meant to carry." He then explained to the ronin the spell he had cast. The ronin slowly smiled as he listened. "I will be able to avenge my lord after all." he said. "You have done me a great service monk. My family will always be in debt to yours. What is your name?" The priest, surprised took a moment to collect himself before answering. "Shin, Shin Higurashi." (AN-readers gasp in surprise) The ronin nodded, "My name is Kai Sureske but from now on I will take as my last name the word written on the walls of the abandoned villages, Akuma. It will serve as a reminder to those in the future of their origins." The priest then told him that since he was not a houshi he would have to remember a few strictures that would keep the youkai from getting loose. "Let not the creature inside be forgotten. It grows strong underneath the full moon, and you must choose an object to symbolize the last carrier for he will have to fight the final battle." The ronin thought before replying. "My sword, bless my old sword so that it will return to the last carrier." The priest stretched out his arms to feel through the earth where this sword was. His eyes fluttered open in surprise. "I cannot sense your sword in this world, but it has not been destroyed." He extended his reach aided by Kai's memories. He finally found it, in an infinite place of darkness; it seemed to have been there for almost a thousand years. Impossible it could not have been there more than ten. His spiritual hand took hold of it and brought it back out into the world, he knew not where. His power exhausted he sat down heavily and turned to Kai. "It is done, many others will probably use the sword, but it will come back to the last carrier when they come of age." he looked down at his broken oozing arm. "Now could you go to my hut and get some herbs, I don't mean to rush you but it does hurt a little." The ronin laughed and left to get them, along with bandages and a splint. He liked this priest, and he felt happier than he had in ten years. The Akuma's and the Higurashi's stayed good friends through the ages........ until the "incident" of 1991.  
  
AN- I love a good cliffy don't you? (dodges rotten fruit thrown by readers) Review. The sooner you review, the sooner another chapter comes out. If you're wandering about the weird time difference with the sword, read the prologue of Star Odyssey in a few days, because right now it's pretty much a sucky outline and I'm trying to update it. If you do read it be warned. Dream's mind is a strange place where as I've said, "His mind is an unfathomable abyss in which any person would be reduced to curling into a fetal position and sucking their thumb." It's true, I swear. I would know. Anyway again REVIEW, something, whatever you think. Don't make me use my Patryn rune magic on you and control your mind to make you review.  
  
JA NE 


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